


Going Rogue

by I_llbedammned



Category: Black Widow (Comics), Hawkeye (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-15
Updated: 2014-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-19 13:33:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1471663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_llbedammned/pseuds/I_llbedammned





	Going Rogue

He could tell someone had entered his hotel room as soon as he entered. Clint drew a knife out of a sheath on his hip and cautiously entered the apartment, ready to strike. Everything in the apartment was still. His awareness rose and he became hyper aware of everything that was going on. Nothing was disturbed, not a sound other than his own breath.  
There was only the sleight swish of cloth to alert him that the hit was coming. He threw himself backwards against a wall as the leg came for him. From around the corner he circled with the knife, slashing at the space where the leg was supposed to be coming from. Fast hands caught the knife as it just barely missed their throat.

"Did you really think that you could hide from me, Mr. Barton?" came a sultry voice.

"Nat?" he answered, now recognizing the familiar face and the voice before him. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Natasha smiled at him, "Did you really think that hiding in Brazil would fool me?"

"Hiding? Nat, I'm on a mission!"

"A mission? Really? Why doesn't S.H.E.I.L.D have any record of this mission then?" she asked, a bit angry, "And why the hell are you lying to me of all people?"

He wanted to fire back angry statements about how she shouldn't be stalking him, about how he could handle himself. He wanted to send her back home and do everything on his own. She had no right coming here, she was only putting herself and him both at risk. How dare she assume he owed her any answers!

In his head he repeated this mantra weakly, but no sound escaped his lips. Instead his shoulders sagged and his arm dropped away from her throat. He sat down on his couch and felt utterly defeated.

"I guess that's it then, you're here to bring me back to them, right?"

Natasha's gaze softened and she took a seat next to him on the couch. She shook her head, "No. Clint, I was worried. You took off in the middle of the night without any explanation. I thought you were killed or kidnapped. I set off to avenge you, I never thought that I'd find you in the middle of the jungle living in a tiny hovel barely scraping by."

"Nat, I-"

She silenced him with a hand to his shoulder, calming and reassuring, "You don't owe me any explanation. We moved past explanations a long time ago. If you don't want to tell me the truth all I ask is that you don't lie to me. You don't have to say why you're here or what you are doing. All I want to know is what I can do to help."

Something in him broke at that moment. Maybe it was seeing her here after so long being away, maybe it was the knowledge that he wasn't as well hidden as he thought he was, maybe his mind just needed to let go of the emotions he had been holding in. Whatever the case may be Clint started talking and fast. He wasn't even fully sure of what he was saying most of the time. All the details came out, about his brother and the kidnapping and the threats made to everyone if he didn't keep it very quiet.

They talked well into the night; well Clint mostly talked and Natasha mostly listened. She didn't judge him, no matter the people he'd had to kill or the choices he had made. He felt safe for the first time in a long time, even though he knew that this was one of the few people in this world that had more blood in her past than he did. Somewhere along the way he fell asleep.   
He wasn't even sure he did until the morning light came to him, shining through his eyelids. His eyes shot open in shock expecting to find someone there to kill him and saw that he had fallen asleep on Natasha's chest as they both had sprawled out on the couch in complete emotional exhaustion, her hand still resting in his hair where she had been stroking his head. He had to admit that she made a very comfy pillow. He smiled, mostly to himself as he looked up at her peaceful sleeping, admiring the way that the light softened her features. She was beautiful even now with her hair a mess and her mouth agape as she slept, the kind of beauty that came when someone was truly relaxed and was just being themselves. It wasn't often he got to wake up in such a gentle way and he savored the moment while it lasted, keeping the image for when times got dark and he needed something to push him through.


End file.
